


Another Reason To Keep You

by snack_size



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Community: avengerkink, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Science Boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 17:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snack_size/pseuds/snack_size
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I know that he - the Other Guy, he helped us. He saved me. You saved the world.”  Bruce tossed some toast and eggs onto a plate and handed them to Tony, then put some on his own. “You should take the rest of the eggs, too,” Tony said. “It looks like it’s been weeks since you’ve eaten.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I ate yesterday.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Before then,” Tony said, and Bruce poured himself more tea before sitting down, ignoring the eggs. “You need...better. Deserve it.” He said this while he scooped scrambled eggs into his mouth, and Bruce had to think that it was on purpose. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“You make it a habit of picking up strays?” Bruce asked, leaning back to sip his tea and grimacing.<br/></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Reason To Keep You

“Hey,” said a voice, and Bruce squeezed his eyes before opening them, hoping that it was not who he thought it was. “Don’t worry, Sleeping Beauty, didn’t have to kiss you or anything to get you to wake up,” Tony said. No such luck.

“That’s a relief,” Bruce said. A soft sheet had been draped over him, and he had to shield his eyes against the bright sunlight pouring into the room. “So. Alien army apocalypse averted?” 

“Yeah,” Tony said. “We were just waiting for you to get up to go and get some shawarma at this little place I know about-”

“Shawarma?” Bruce asked. “We’re going to go and...eat shawarma?”

“You feeling OK, Dr. Banner?” Tony asked. “I did _just_ say that. Also. Brought you some clothes.” He pat a pair of pants and a shirt. “Figured we’re about the same size?” Bruce nodded and pressed two fingers to each temple, not wanting to argue. 

He dressed quickly and shuffled out to find the rest of the...Avengers? Team? waiting in the ruined penthouse of Stark Tower. Everyone except Steve had a glass almost entirely filled with what looked like whiskey. “Mind if I get one of those?” he asked, not wanting to call attention to himself, but how often did he get an opportunity to drink not just decent, but Stark quality booze?

He had to quickly look away, though, when he caught Tony appraising how loose the pants and shirt were on him.

* * *

“You know what’s going to happen, right?” Tony asked, after the others dispersed, indicating their various destinations for when the inevitable debriefing came the next day. It was just Tony and Bruce, outside the shawarma place, and Bruce nodded. He knew their wasn’t much point in resisting, and his head was still swimming - or, more like tidal pools eddying back and forth across his brain.

“Yeah,” he said, putting a hand behind his head to scratch at the base of his hair. “Could use a place to sleep, I guess. Until this is over. If that’s what you mean?”

Tony cocked his head and grinned, then looped his arm into Bruce’s. He began to walk, and Bruce followed - not that he had much choice. “Now, generally we have the highest standards at Stark Towers for, well, everything, but there’s been an unfortunate series of events that have led us to have to begin a rebuilding phase-”

“Don’t,” Bruce said, pulling away. He has a sense of what he did then, something that’s sloshing around in his head - and even though he’s aware that he wasn’t the only one to cause damages, it still stings.

“Sure, OK,” Tony said, holding his hands in front of him. “Doesn’t look like tonight’s a good night to catch a cab. You mind walking?”

“It’s fine,” Bruce said, though his entire body ached from being stretched and then compacted again. _Walk it off,_ he thought, and shook his head. Tony arched an eyebrow and then began to walk towards Stark Tower.

Bruce tried not to look at him, too often, as they headed up-town. He would have avoided all of this if he could, but if there was one thing he had learned, it was that, more often than not, acquiescence got you out of a lot of...disagreements. And, over the course of the past day or so - _had it only been that?_ he thought, because that was absurd - that this applied doubly to anything that Tony Stark was determined about.

Then he noticed that Tony was wincing, and, more importantly, that his breath was ragged. Bruce doesn’t need to see anything to diagnosis broken ribs. “You usually get hurt like that in the suit?” Bruce asked, thinking Stark really should have been able to find a way around that.

“No, but getting smashed into a couple of buildings while hurtling down from outer-space will do that,” Tony replied. Bruce looked down. “Hey, hey, no worries...I think the Big Guy likes me.”

“Yeah,” Bruce said. He is not sure how he feels about this development. The Other Guy has never helped before, let alone actually played well with others. There’s a part of him - a last kernel of optimism, indicating he hadn’t beat all of it out - that thinks this might be a good thing. The rest of him, though, is scared shitless at the thought that this might mean he’s...evolving. “Maybe he’ll get you roses or something.”

Stark raised an eyebrow at that and seemed pleased. “Definitely not someone you can bring home to meet the parents - well, actually, my parents...” Bruce can only press his lips together. He is usually the one who has the market cornered on this one. 

When they get back to the tower, Bruce is amazed that the AI system he had heard bits and pieces about is still functional. He inhaled when he realized that they were headed towards the penthouse where The Other - where he, he now knew - had...

“Can I get you something to drink?” Tony asked.

“Surely you’ve got stashes of alcohol elsewhere,” Bruce said. Tony grinned at him, acknowledging that he knew that Bruce knew what he was up to. Not that it required a great deal of insight into the psyche of Tony Stark - it had been his modus operandi since they had met, proving that he was not afraid of Bruce. _Just as arrogant as everyone said,_ Bruce thought. _While simultaneously having the capacity to sacrifice everything._

“Yes, but not the _good_ alcohol,” Tony said. “This was, after all, my living room.” 

_Right,_ Bruce thought, and accepted the glass of the same whiskey from earlier that Tony was offering him. He took a large, forceful swig and felt a little bit better for it. 

“Come here,” Tony said, and he walked over to what was now a ledge, looking out over most of Manhattan. He sat down easily and dangled his legs off of the edge. Bruce complied, but most of him wanted to tell Tony he needed to be a lot more careful with own mortality. “You can actually see the stars,” he said, pointing. Bruce nodded. “Though, I guess, where you were, that wasn’t...” He shrugged. “JARVIS, where can we put Dr. Banner tonight? Also, remind me to hook the building’s power up to the cities tomorrow.” 

“Yes, sir. All of the apartments are in a various state of disrepair,” the computer replied.

“That’s fine,” Bruce interrupted, and was amazed when the computer actually stopped. “I haven’t slept on a mattress in...months.” 

“Well, that settles that,” Tony replied, and for a brief moment, Bruce actually thought that he was going to go along with it. “Are you a big spoon, or a little spoon?” Bruce sighed, taking another very long sip of his whiskey. “I am very hard to dissuade-”

“Really?” Bruce asked, and Tony grinned at him. It made Bruce nervous - at first, he had thought that Stark just looked at him like another one his playthings, or pets, and especially after the big green rage monster comment. Now, though, he wasn’t entirely sure. It would have helped if he had kept up with things like human interaction these last few years.

He knew he shouldn’t have worried about the spoon comment, about the idea of human contact - the bed was absurdly large. “Makes it convenient for orgies,” Bruce observed, leaning in the doorway. 

Tony turned. “My reputation precedes me,” he said. “As far as Calcutta, it would seem.”

“No, I just read your file,” Bruce said. “On the flight from Calcutta with the Bla- Natasha. Not too much of a talker,” he said. He _was_ to blame for that. Twice.

“I always sleep on the right,” Tony said, casually taking his clothes off until he was down to a pair of boxer briefs. Bruce closed his eyes, briefly, and then sighed. He kept his own t-shirt on.

* * * *

When he woke up, hungover in more ways than one, Tony was sprawled on his back across his side of the mattress, the arc light glowing dull underneath the sheet. It was still early by most people’s standards, and Bruce did his best to get out of the bed and into the bathroom without disrupting his host. “JARVIS,” he said, once he had the water to the shower running. “I don’t suppose there’s any food around here, is there?” 

“Mr. Stark has bread and eggs on hand at all times,” the computer responded. “There is also coffee, which he prefers brewed extra strong.”

Bruce almost asked if this was a standard response for everyone who spent the night in Tony’s bed, but then thought better of it. He felt overly indulgent as soon as he got into the enormous shower, especially given the products on hand, but it had been so long. Bed, shower, he thought - things no one, and especially not someone like Tony, had to think about. He sighed, changed back into the clothes from yesterday, and then padded past a still asleep, still snoring Tony for the kitchen.

“Is there any tea?” he asked, and then wished he hadn’t - when directed to the cupboard where it was stored he found only a sad, dented box of Lipton alongside what appeared to be infinite permutations of coffee. He sighed and put some water on and was about get the coffee ready when the computer interrupted him.

“There is no need, Dr. Banner. I am programmed to initiate coffee brewing as soon as Mr. Stark rises,” it said.

“Right, OK,” said Bruce. He made himself a cup of black tea, tossed some milk in, and was about to make toast when he decided he should probably wait. It was the least he could do for the bed and the shower. As soon as the coffee began to percolate and drip, he set himself to work.

When Tony walked in, also freshly showered, his eyes lit up when saw Bruce scrambling eggs and making toast. “Do you do this for everyone you spend the night with, Bruce?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee and drinking half of it.

“No,” he replied, not even sure where to go with that. 

“Another reason to keep you,” Tony replied.

Bruce turned at this soon enough to see that Tony’s expression was genuine. “I can’t stay here,” he said.

“I like my scrambled eggs dry, but not rubbery,” Tony said. “And didn’t we discuss last night, about trying to dissuade me?” Bruce turned, flipping the eggs again and then turning the burner off. “We could have that conversation again, if you want.” 

“You know it’s not-”

“I know that he - the Other Guy, he helped us. He saved me. You saved the world.” Bruce tossed some toast and eggs onto a plate and handed them to Tony, then put some on his own. “You should take the rest of the eggs, too,” Tony said. “It looks like it’s been weeks since you’ve eaten.”

“I ate yesterday.”

“Before then,” Tony said, and Bruce poured himself more tea before sitting down, ignoring the eggs. “You need...better. Deserve it.” He said this while he scooped scrambled eggs into his mouth, and Bruce had to think that it was on purpose. 

“You make it a habit of picking up strays?” Bruce asked, leaning back to sip his tea and grimacing.

“No, actually,” Tony said. “I really don’t play well with others, at all, like the good Captain indicated. Or SHIELD. Someone - and it’s true. There’s Pepper, but she gets paid, and Rhodey, and then some robots, but I built them.” He shrugged. “And, in response to your other objection - one of the benefits of being a billionaire is being able to afford repairs.” 

“What if-”

“It will keep the employees on their toes,” Tony said. 

“This isn’t something...I’m not just going to go with you on _this_ ,” Bruce said. He doesn’t even know what else to say, because it just seems ludicrous, even when you strip off all of their particular, peculiar circumstances - he’s known the man for a day, and he’s trying to get Bruce to stay. Did it make it worse that it made more sense with those circumstances tacked back on? Bruce shook his head.

“You’re actually going to fight on this?” Tony asked, and there was a bemused expression on his face. Probably because he saw whatever face Bruce was making in reaction to Tony having figured that out so quickly. “At least let me show you the R&D floors - JARVIS, were those damaged?”

“No, sir,” said JARVIS. 

“Excellent,” Tony said.

“No,” Bruce said.

“Oh, come on!” Tony protested, polishing off the rest of his plate where Bruce had barely touched his. “I almost never get to show off all my toys to someone who actually understands how to play with them.” 

He is like a whirlpool, Bruce told himself - and he didn’t know if this was to make him feel more comfortable with the fact that he might just let go on this, that he might just...or if it was justification.

* * * * * 

“So..?” said Tony, leaning against the table in his personal lab. “How can you say no to that?” 

“No?” Bruce replied, and Tony grinned at him. 

“Why can’t you let yourself-” he began.

Bruce shook his head. “Why can’t you accept...the consequences? Remember Harlem, that place above Midtown? Or you could ask Natasha about how much fun she had yesterday, on the Helicarrier?”

“Is hiding going to change that?” Tony asked. “Especially since you weren’t really hiding, you just thought you were. So hide here.” 

Bruce stared at him - how was it that Tony Stark was the one able to see that, to see everything, and distill it? He had to exhale, sharply, and put his hands in his pockets. “Tony, look, I appreciate everything, but you just don’t-”

He was looking down as he tried to formulate a new way of saying what he needed to say, something that could stand at counter-weight to what Stark had just said - so he didn’t realize that the other man had let go of the table and closed the gap between them until he put his hand on Bruce’s chin and lifted it up.

They were nearly the same height, and their eyes met - Tony’s were intense, and strangely earnest. Then he kissed him, moving in closer so at first just his lips grazed against Bruce’s and would have been an invitation if Tony didn’t press hard against his closed mouth immediately after. Tony worked his lips hard against Bruce’s, who found the contact difficult to resist. Tony turned their heads slightly and opened his mouth before withdrawing.

“Do you want to say no to that?” Tony asked.

Bruce furrowed his brow, shocked. The pet thing, sure, he could understand - he remembered what it felt like, finding someone on your own level. And he certainly knew what it felt like to be lonely. But the idea that Tony could know everything and present himself like that was fairly unfathomable. “I could, at any moment-”

“That wasn’t the question,” Tony said. “I asked if you wanted to.”

 _Sneaky little bastard_ , Bruce thought, and he closed his eyes. “No,” he said. “But I have to, because I don’t want to say no. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t.”

“It can’t - it’s not as easy as just having the conviction that-” Bruce protested.

“Isn’t it? Isn’t that your secret, after all, that you’re always angry?” Tony asked. 

They seemed to stare at each other forever. “This is a whole other level of - I can’t-”

“Consider this me giving you informed consent,” Tony replied. Bruce closed his eyes so he didn’t have to meet Tony’s, because instead of the arrogance he had expected there was hard, brutal need there. Bruce ground his teeth together. “See?” Tony said, and when Bruce opened his eyes, the mischief was back - which just made that one vulnerable look all the more... “You can’t resist me. Or the particle accelerator - well, maybe that. But what about the nucleic acid extraction system?” 

“That was impressive,” Bruce said, voice soft and hushed.

“I had to up the ante,” Tony replied. The way that he was biting, slightly, at his bottom lip made it clear to Bruce he wasn’t talking about the nucleic acid extraction system.

“I can - let’s just start with me staying, for awhile, OK?” Bruce said. He shook his head.

“OK,” Tony said, and raised a fist and waited for Bruce to bump back. “Really? Did you miss the fist bump? Come, lab partner!” Bruce raised his own fist and carefully tapped it against Tony’s. 

Something else might have happened, then, but they were interrupted by JARVIS. “A phone call, sir. Director Fury is requesting that you and Mr. Banner present yourself for debriefing.”

“It makes it sound like we’re avoiding him, doesn’t it?” Tony asked. Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “That’s right, I forgot you were in a noncommital mood...” 

“This is going to be a lot of fun, I can tell,” Bruce said. “When do we get to the part where we paint each other’s toenails?” 

“How does Director Fury plan on us getting onto his helicarrier?” Tony asked.

“He indicated he would send Agent Romanov and Agent Barton to pick you up at your airstrip outside the city, along with Captain Rogers.”

“Alright,” said Tony, nodding his head. “Getting the gang all back together.”

They didn’t speak as they took the elevator down to the garage. Tony strode out, ahead of Bruce, probably for the best - Bruce was amazed at the amount of money that had been spent on the variety of vehicles, some of which were probably rarely or never used.

“Here we go!” Tony said, pointing at what Bruce could only guess was an incredibly expensive, maroon convertible.

“That is a ridiculous car,” Bruce said, raising both eyebrows.

“Yeah, well, at a certain point, enough stuff happens - you just have to embrace it, right?” Tony asked. “Besides, I thought you would appreciate it, since you’re the type of guy who knows how to make an entrance.”

* * * * * 

After agreeing with Thor’s proposal for what to do with Loki and the Tesseract, Fury stated that they would all be staying on the Helicarrier that evening, whether in medical or in one of the empty agent rooms. 

Bruce picked his cuticles through the entire speech as a way to inconspicuously gauge the reactions of everyone. No one had spoke through their meal earlier, and there wasn’t much of a dialogue after Thor stated that Loki would have to be returned to his own realm. Natasha and Clint had their chairs as close as possible to one another, and Bruce noted that her hand was on his thigh and he was clutching it. Clint looked depleted.

“Tony,” Bruce said, leaning in to him after Fury turned and walked out the room. “We’re going to stay here?” 

“I don’t think there was an option,” Tony said, leaning in and placing an hand on Bruce’s chair, lips about an inch from his ear. “We’ll be fine.” Bruce couldn’t help but meet Natasha’s eyes, across the table, and her brow was furrowed. He had to look down - he couldn’t imagine what he had done, here, what he had done to her after she had tried to help.

“Agent Barton, Agent Romanov?” came a voice, and an agent in medical scrubs entered. “You’re coming to medical.” Natasha began to protest, but Clint just shook his head. Natasha limped as she walked, and Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulder for support. Bruce looked down at the table. 

“Dr. Banner?” Another voice, another agent in medical scrubs.

“That’s cool,” Tony said, standing up. “I’ve got this.”

“I have orders to take-” the second agent began, and then stopped. Bruce had to look up to realize that Thor had pushed back his chair and that Steve had stood up along with Tony. “I will have to inform Director Fury.”

“See that you do,” Tony said, grinning. “And get us a room with two cots, while you’re at it.” The second agent shook his head, and backed up out of the room.

“Thanks,” Bruce mumbled.

“There’s no need for that, after everything.” Steve said. Thor shook his head as well. 

“I don’t suppose they might have any mead aboard this vessel?” Thor asked, instead.

“A noble quest,” Tony replied. “If you find any, let me know, yeah? Bring me some?” Thor nodded, grabbed his hammer, and stomped out of the room. 

Only a few minutes later, Hill entered the room, stitches and bruising marring one side of her face. “Dr. Banner? Mr. Stark? Director Fury asked me to show you to your quarters.” As they walked, she indicated that dinner would be brought by at some point. 

“Thank you,” Tony said, but as soon as the door closed he raised his eyebrows. “Oh, this is dire.” 

“What?” Bruce asked, then realized that his assessment of the room was dramatically different than Tony’s - there were the two cots, a laptop computer on a desk, and an attached bathroom with cramped shower. “You do realize cots only come in single, right? Sort of the point.” 

Tony flopped down onto the edge of one of the cots and grabbed at the computer. “How long before I manage to hack into this and find us a movie to watch?” 

“Is that a question, or are we going to bet?” Bruce asked. The room was smaller than he would have liked, and he still felt disorientated from everything that had happened. He had to close his eyes as a wave of nausea hit him, then he sat down on the other cot.

“Depends on what I get to win,” Tony replied. “Nevermind, here we go. Wow, these people have really interesting things in their iTunes account. You think they would know how to disable sharing...Do you have any preferences?” He glanced up, and frowned slightly. “You look pale.”

“I’m OK,” Bruce said. “Seasick?” 

“Harry Potter?” Tony asked. Bruce shook his head. “Well, the books are better, but the best is that it’s eight films, so that should get us through until tomorrow. Get off the bed.” Bruce pressed his lips together. “I’m going to push them together. How else are we going to snuggle?” 

“We aren’t,” Bruce said, but he stood up off of the bed and let Tony push the two of them together. He seemed just as pleased as if he had invented something, and he practically bounced onto the bed and then angled the laptop screen towards them. Bruce stayed on his side, sitting at the end of the bed, using the pillow as a cushion between him and the wall. Tony laid down, frowned at Bruce, and then shrugged. 

Halfway through the first movie, there was a pounding at the door that jolted Bruce out of the kid-movie stupor he had been in. Before either could say anything, it swung open to reveal Thor filling the entire thing. “Sadly, there was no mead. However, I was told that you would find this to be pleasurable alternative.” He held a bottle of vodka out to them.

“Where’d you get that from?” Bruce asked as Tony took it eagerly, as well as the small, plastic mugs Thor had for them.

“From the Black Widow’s quarters,” Thor said. “I have one of my own.” He held it up, took a long swig, and raised his eyebrows. “This has a certain fire to it,” he said.

“I don’t think that this is-” Bruce began, but Thor stepped out of the door and allowed it to slam shut. “I mean, I don’t think she and I-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Tony said, pouring him an almost full mug. “We’ll just tell her Thor took them, which is not a lie. And drank a whole bottle. Also not a lie. And, worst comes to worst? I get her more of it.” He grinned. “Cheers,” he said.

“Твое здоровье (To your health),” Bruce said. Tony took a large swig, while Bruce took a sip - he was always wary around vodka since college, when he had spent a few too many mornings on the wrong end of it. This, of course, was pleasantly smooth and crystal clear.

“Did I ever tell you what a language kink I have?” Tony asked.

“No, but don’t worry,” Bruce said. “I can fill in the blanks.” 

Three hours later, Agent Hill opened the door after neither man responded to her knocking. She held back the agent who had dinner for the two of them and poked her head in and grinned. She recognized dialogue from the fourth Harry Potter movie, and, even better, Dr. Banner had fallen asleep on his back with Tony resting his head on the other’s man chest, an arm slung casually around his waist. “Give that to me,” she said. “I’ll just leave it on the desk for them.” 

When they woke up the next morning, they were each on their respective cots and pleased to find cold food waiting to abate the hangover that drinking a quarter bottle of vodka each could cause. 

* * * *

Bruce wasn’t entirely sure what to think about the fact that Tony had packed two near matching suits, but decided that, as with many things having to do with Tony, it was best not to over-analyze this one. At least their shirts were different colors. He left the jacket in Tony’s luggage so the comparison would not be overt.

He sat across from Tony on the Quinjet, mostly because Stark had decided that he was going to have to spend the time he had remaining with Loki taunting their gagged prisoner. This left him next to Natasha after Clint allowed Steve to sit as his copilot - largely due to her sprained wrist and broken ribs. Bruce redoubled his efforts on his cuticles.

“You’re staying with him,” she said, voice soft and barely audible over the sound of the jet and the trolling.

“Yeah, uhm, Stark offered and made the reasonable point that since I was never hidden, given that-”

“I think it’s a good idea,” she said, cocking her head. Briefly, she put a her uninjured hand over one of his. “Bruce. I don’t - well. I look forward to fighting with you again.” 

“Oh,” he said. “I’m still sorry.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“I’ve actually really seen worse,” she said, and then looked up at Tony.

“And what is it, exactly, with the giant phallic symbols on that helmet?” he asked Loki. “I mean, there’s obviously the whole Freudian symbology, but...” Bruce shook his head.

“Besides,” Natasha said, leaning in towards Bruce. “You’re cute together.” 

Bruce blushed. “Seriously?” Tony asked. “What was it, Banner, the oral fixation or the fact I keep saying phallus?”

“Seriously,” Natasha added. Bruce smiled, wondering if she would feel the same way once she saw what had become of her stash of expensive Russian vodka.

* * * *

Bruce negotiated for space for a few days, and was amazed that he managed to get the point across after mumbling something about being on the Helicarrier, and then the jet, and having just come down from two transformations in less than a day after having gone a whole year without them, as well as a vodka hangover. Tony had just nodded. “Sure, sure, whatever you need,” he said, almost too casually. “JARVIS will get you whatever you need. Or Pepper, she’s good with that, too. And you’ll know where to find me - hopefully, Pepper keeps saying I have to do some press conferences about rebuilding Stark Tower and New York and...” he shook his head. “You’re probably best hiding from those.” 

“Why not get Steve to do those?” Bruce asked.

“Are you saying he’s more photogenic and articulate than me?” Tony asked, and Bruce rolled his eyes. “Seriously, though, anything-”

“I know we’re sort of in the middle of a disaster zone...” Bruce said, “but could there be better tea?” He shrugged.

The next morning he awoke to find that a large wooden Twinnings tea service box had been delivered and was filled with what had to be nearly all of their offerings. He carried it into the kitchen, brewed some Darjeeling, and smiled as he inhaled the scent. 

* * * * * * 

Part of him wondered how long it would take before Tony sought him out. But after everything, it seemed an unfair game to play. This was confirmed when, after three and a half days - largely spent sleeping, reading in a bath tub, drinking tea, and sleeping - he stepped into Tony’s lab and the other man turned around quickly on the stool he’s seated on and grinned at Bruce. 

“Woah,” Bruce said, as the welding instrument Tony was using almost flew out of his hand. 

“Oh, well, whatever,” Tony said, waving his hand. “What’s a few more thousands of dollars of damages?” He smiled at Bruce. 

“What are you welding?” Bruce asked, not because he was that curious, but because he just wanted to hear someone talk to him, now. The desire had hit him hard, and felt strange - he would go weeks, sometimes, without speaking unless it was necessary, or only to patients. And he knew it was Tony - knew that it was being with someone with the same type of scientific focus, the same intensity, someone who understood... 

Tony complied, waving a hand and detailing some new robot he was putting together to aid in the rebuilding process. Bruce sat on a stool that was near him, put his head in his hand, and nodded along, understanding enough of it. “What have you been up to?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well...” Bruce said, because the question implied that Tony had been in the lab this entire time. “Sleeping? Tea - thanks for that, by the way? Baths?”

“Baths?” Tony asked.

“With books, yeah.”

“And you didn’t think to invite me? Did you see how big that bathtub was?” Bruce nodded, and demurred, taking his glasses off and wiping them on one of the shirts that had appeared in his closet on his first day. “And then you’re going to do that?”

“Do what?”

“The thing - with the glasses.” Tony stopped, and cocked his head as though studying a piece of technology. “You have no idea, do you?” 

“I don’t think so, no,” Bruce said. Tony shook his head.

“It makes me worry for you,” Tony replied, and before Bruce could say anything, he scooted his stool over so that he was inches from Bruce’s face, their legs alternating. 

“Tony, I-” Bruce said, looking down again, because it was too hard to see the need and want in Tony’s eyes and not respond to it.

“Do you know how hard it was, knowing you were here, and..?” Tony asked, and Bruce could imagine. Had been experiencing a little of it, himself, though he had tried not to dwell on it because it had to stay, firmly, in the column of _things that are bad ideas_ and he knew that if he started to think about it, he would start rationalizing. And then he would be done. “What is it?” Tony asked. “Can you not..?”

Bruce answered by kissing him, using a hand to grab the back of Tony’s head and pull him in close. Their stools bumped into each other and Bruce moved against Tony’s lips before pressing his tongue inwards, completely unsurprised to find that Tony Stark was an excellent kisser. “OK...” Tony strung out, as Bruce pulled away and rested a head on Tony’s shoulder. “So, yes?” Tony’s hand was instantly in his hair, tangled in it, stroking through it, and Bruce shuddered at the contact.

“Yes,” he said. “But...slow? Slowish?” 

“You mean that we need to court, or something?” Tony asked. Bruce looked up and smiled at him. 

“No, I just mean...you know what I mean. I used to think it was heart rate, but it’s more...OK, it’s not just that - I just can’t be in control.” 

Tony guided his head up so that their eyes could meet, and he nodded at Bruce. “Slow. And not in control.” 

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “Basically.”

“But I thought-”

“I don’t know, it just - I have to be so careful, all the time, and if I try, like that, it just gets...” Tony nodded, seeming to understand. “Too much focus, you know?” 

“OK. Whatever you need - and you’ll keep me posted, though, if that needs an addendum?” Before Bruce can respond, it was Tony’s turn to kiss him. It was almost languid, Tony slowly opening Bruce and exploring him in a way that is almost too evocative of what was going to come. Bruce couldn’t help but shudder - it had been a long time, and longer since it was someone that he trusted like this. 

Tony pushed the stool out from under him and stood, then held a hand out for Bruce. “I’d do this right here, but I’m willing to bet comfortable might be part of that list, too.”

“Mmm,” Bruce said, not entirely sure, but inclined to agree with Tony. They were quiet in the elevator to the next floor, but once out, Tony embraced him and pulled him close. He nuzzled into his neck and kissed, slowly, then pulled away and exhaled against the moisture he left behind. 

They kissed on their way to Tony’s room, and Tony turned him so he was able to slide Bruce down onto the bed. He stood between Bruce’s legs and put a hand to Bruce’s chest, then began to undo the buttons. He pushed the shirt aside and ran a hand through the hair on Bruce’s chest, thumbing a nipple when he moved to the side.

“Tony-” Bruce said, and wrapped his legs around the other man to get him to come down onto the bed with him. Tony’s eyebrows were raised as Bruce moved backwards, getting Tony on top of him.

“You say slow, I think-” he said, kissed Bruce again and then removed his own shirt.

Bruce couldn’t help but put a hand out to cover the arc reactor, and then he ran his thumb along the line between metal and skin. Tony shuddered. “Sensitive?” he asked. Tony nodded, and Bruce moved his own thumb down to Tony’s nipple, smiling softly at how Tony’s shoulders tensed. 

Pants came next, and Tony ran a hand along the waistband of the boxer briefs that Bruce had found in his dresser. “I thought these would look good on you,” he said, almost a purr. Bruce looked at him through half-veiled eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Tony said, and another hand was at the side of Bruce’s head, brushing through his hair.

“Tony-” Bruce said, but Tony stopped him with another kiss. 

“That meant no back-talk, in case you didn’t get that,” Tony said. He dropped, pressing their groins together, and put each hand around Bruce’s wrist at his side. “Like that?” he asked. Bruce nodded, brow furrowed because of the friction between cloth and- “Or like this?” Tony asked, guiding one hand and then another over Bruce’s head and pinning them there at the wrist.

“Yes.” Bruce said, and Tony grinned down at him and circled his hips. His pressed his thighs against Bruce, keeping him from moving, and his hands were tight around Bruce’s wrists. 

Tony moved down to kiss at Bruce’s neck again, then removed one hand from his wrist and used it to take the boxer briefs off - Bruce arched up to allow him, and closed his eyes as he felt Tony’s breath on his cock. It was just a tease, though, and Tony kissed his way up his abdomen, ghosted a tongue over his nipples, and then settled back down against his mouth.

Bruce ground into Tony, again, mouth muffled. Tony squeezed his wrist. “You’re right, I suppose, it is only fair...” he said, and if possible, his voice was more smooth, deeper. 

He kneeled, releasing Bruce’s wrists, but Bruce did not move his hands. It gave him an excellent view of Tony disrobing, and he moaned again at the sight of the other man, naked. Tony lunged forward, then, and pulled a very expensive bottle of lube from under his pillow. Bruce arched an eyebrow. “Boy scouts, Bruce? No? Always prepared,” Tony said. 

He coated a hand and rubbed the thumb into Bruce’s nipple, then traced a line down the center of his abdomen, stopping right before the place where his cock rested. “God, Tony-” he said, and then, “Please.” 

“If you’re going to ask nicely,” Tony said, and laid down alongside of him. He was gentle with his hand, and Bruce almost said too gentle - and had to take two deep breaths and remind himself what the point of the exercise was, and what it most definitely was not. He kissed Bruce as he explored with his hand, a thumb running along the underside of his head, up the hard vein, tracing the outline his balls. His fingers were nimble, if slow, and Bruce moaned hard into his mouth.

“When you said control?” Tony asked, and then sucked his earlobe. “Clarification? Did you want-”

“Fuck me.” Bruce said. They could get into the nuances of this later, though he suspected from the question that Tony already understood. He moved so he was on his side as well, and Tony took his leg and used it to separate Bruce’s legs, to open him up.

He trailed down Bruce’s spine, murmuring something into his neck that was no doubt mother-hennish. Then he circled Bruce’s entrance, using his other hand to move through his hair. “I like your hair,” he said, pressing a finger in and working around the tight ring of muscle, then further. “So tight - can’t wait to fuck you.”

Bruce made a sort of sound as Tony’s finger made contact with his prostate, trying to move into it more and pleased to meet with resistance from Tony’s thigh, from a hand on his chest that twisted his nipple. Their eyes met, then, and Tony nuzzled at his face before kissing him. A second finger twisted in, hard, and Bruce jolted at it. 

He took more than enough time with his fingers, holding Bruce so he couldn’t grind down onto them. “So. Fucking. Good,” Bruce managed, at three, before kissing Tony’s neck hard and sucking, pulling, hoping to mark him. 

“I have a press conference tomorrow,” Tony said, a slight moan to it as he pulled Bruce apart and then curled his fingers, hard.

“Good,” Bruce said, and then found himself pushed on his back. A hand tugged at the hair on his chest, and then pinned his wrists above his head again. Bruce wrapped his legs around Tony’s shoulders, and Tony released his wrists to grab onto his thigh with one hand, pressing in hard enough to leave marks. Bruce supposed this was fair.

With his other hand, Tony slicked his own cock. “Fuck,” he murmured, and Bruce held his eye as Tony teased, then moved in. “Oh, god, Bruce, you’re so-” Somehow, he managed to push inwards in a way that was smooth and slow but also stretched and burned with the urgency of the move, and Bruce issued a low moan that ended with his mouth slack and open. Tony thrusted hard, managing to hold Brush down as he filled him.

“Tony.” It’s the last coherent thing that Bruce manages, as Tony bore down on him, thrusting hard and slow, rocking into a rhythm that managed to withhold and give, to make Bruce shudder. Though slow, steady, there was nothing gentle about Tony’s thrusts, about the way he held him and dug into him with his fingernails.

“You’re going to come on my cock,” Tony said, and Bruce nodded. Tony pressed down, and there it was, and Bruce issued a long moan. It felt like Tony had him nearly in half, and he relished getting a burn in his muscles and joints from being split like this and not any other way. 

Tony’s fingers dug down into his ass as Tony thrust, pace increasing enough for Bruce to feel that familiar well without the other, unwanted one. His orgasm was sharp, and for the first time, he was able to move his hips to rock into into it. Tony thrust through, long and hard, and it wasn’t long after that Bruce felt warmth sputtering over his gland.

“Ungth,” he said, and Tony pulled out and rolled over. Wipes emerged from under his pillow as well, and Bruce had to grin at that.

“I told you,” Tony said, tossing the last one off the side of the bed and scratching at Bruce’s chest, tangling his fingers in the chest hair.

“Yeah,” Bruce admitted. “You win.” 

“I know that,” Tony said. His kiss was hard, and needy, and Bruce sighed into it.


End file.
